Cope
by VOM
Summary: Yaoi. Schu/Ken-Aya/Ken-Hint of Br/K How could anyone do this? Pain flooded his senses, blocking everything else. Gods, it hurt.
1. Prologue

By: VOM

Pairings: Schu/Ken Aya/Ken

Warnings: Duh… yaoi, vulgar usage of words, sexual references, implied rape/NCS…blahblahblah  

Disclaimer: If I owned these boys, they would never leave their rooms. Or MY room. 

Archive: Fanfiction.net – Any others please ask! And give me your URL. Of course, why you would want this story is beyond me. 

Rating: R 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Beep Beep Beep Bee-

Ken hit the alarm clock. Hard. A small bolt came loose from the idiotic mechanism and rolled across the floor, coming to a rest at the door. Light shone through the one window in his apartment, tracing patterns on the ground. Ken moaned and threw his hand over his face, trying without results to block out the ever-persistent ball of fire.

Ken glanced at his clock, assessing the damage he had inflicted. Damn. That was the third one this week. Ken ran a hand down his chest, looking at the beads of sweat soaking into his white sheet. He'd never had this problem before, even when he was a horny 15 year old. The brunette ran a hand underneath his covers, and found his cock still half-hard. Damn.

Every night he dreamed, and woke up covered in sweat and semen. Ken wasn't stupid. He knew wet dreams were a fact of life for a male, but still… for the sheets to be this dirty… he'd had to come at least twice, maybe three times. 

They'd never been that bad before. And he didn't even remember what girl he'd been dreaming about. He was such a fucking fag. Ken snarled at nothing in particular. He threw the covers off of himself, and lifted his feet out of bed and to the floor. 

Shit! The floor was cold! Ken immediately jumped back into bed, glaring at the ground of his little apartment. Siberian hung his head over the side of the bed, and thrust his hand underneath it; searching for the slippers Omi had given him when they'd first started working together. One was pink and one was blue. Ha-ha Omi. He felt his hand brush something soft, and grabbed onto it. Success! There they were. A bit dusty, but useable. He slid his feet into them, loving the feel of the velvet insides against his callused feet. 

He grabbed a shirt from the dirty clothes pile by his door, and ran a hand through his hair. He felt filthy, but a shower could wait. Right now he needed something to drink and eat; then he would throw himself into the day. He made his way to the kitchen of his apartment, heading for the fridge. He opened it and shuddered when the wave of cold air hit his still-wet body. Fuck it all to hell. Nothing to eat except limp celery. Disgusting.

Ken slammed the door of the fridge shut and looked around at his kitchen and dining room. Half opened cans of ravioli were littered here and there, ramen noodles covered his stove, and a half-drunk pop lay on the counter. If he remembered right, that coke was only… 2 days old! Just when it started to reach that perfect state between half liquid, half sugar. Just how he liked it. Ken's slippers padded the tile floor as he made his way to the counter. The coke half slid half crawled its way down Siberians throat. After finishing his breakfast, the brunette made his way to the bathroom, fully intent on having a nice, long, drawn out wash. 

The soccer player stepped out of the shower, watching the excess water run a path down his thighs to his ankles. He shivered and quickly wrapped a towel around himself, mopping himself off. He hastily got dressed, pulling on his shoes as he thumped down the stairs of his apartment into the flower shop. 

"Aya! Omi!" Ken let loose a smile as he saw one of his teammates wave to him. "Hey, Omi, got anything to eat on you? I swear, someone sneaked into my apartment and stole all my food!" Omi rolled his eyes and waved towards Aya. 

"Aya's got some candy bars, I think. Go ask him." Ken walked over to where Aya was watering some Begonias, and tapped him on the shoulder. The redhead turned around and assessed Ken's clothing. "Hn?"{1} 

Siberian shuffled his feet a few times before finally getting around to asking, "Could I have something to eat?" Aya's look practically screamed, "Go fuck yourself." Ken sighed. "Well, whatever. It was worth a try." He spun around on one foot, making sure to stamp his feet excessively on the way to the cash register. 

"You can have one." Aya's unexpected voice somehow made it's way through Ken's rage with a biting coldness. 

"Really?" asked Ken. "You didn't…_do_ anything to it?" Aya didn't answer, but motioned to his pack on the floor. "Thanks man!" Ken dove for the knapsack, whipping through the layers of leather and quickly finding a nice Snickers bar. The man swiftly ate it, and walked over to the cash register with his mouth still half full. 

Without turning around the redhead said, "Go work the back today. You look and smell awful." Ken slowly seethed and sizzled in his shoes, his face turned a pale shade of pink before making his way into the back room. 

{1}-Yea, I know, more Heero's part, but still! It works!  

A/N: This is my first WK fic. CC is completely welcome! In fact, I crave it! Please review! Personal reviews can come to seifernsquall@netscape.net. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 1

By: VOM

Pairings: Schu/Ken Aya(Ran)/Ken

Warnings: Same as before

Disclaimer: If Weiss were mine, the show would've been A LOT different.

Archive: Fanfiction.net –Any others, ask, give me URL, and e-mail moi!

Rating: R

*********

Ken walked to the back of Koneko no Sumu Ie, into the storage room. He took a deep breath, and his lungs filled with the earthy smell of plants mixed in with the sweet perfume of their pollen.{1} Maybe Aya's order had been a blessing in disguise. Ken almost smiled but caught himself at the last second. Didn't want Aya to think he was happy. He watered the Solidasters,{2} taking his time and slowly sprinkling the water onto the petals and watching it run down the graceful stem to the plant's pot and soak into the earth. He pushed three fingers into the dirt, seeing if he'd put the right amount of water in. Sometimes he was a bit _enthusiastic_ with the water.

Ken sighed as he fingers sunk into the pot. He flicked some more water on the plant before removing his hands and heading to the wash station by the door. He wondered what Aya was doing. Heh…probably scaring some innocent girl. Or maybe not so innocent…he thought he'd recognized one of them when Youji had come to the apartment last night. Purple hair, blue eyes, pretty figure. Like an ice skater. Ken imagined her slowly licking her lips, running a hand down her body, flicking her nipples… He shook his head when nothing happened to him. Such a fucking fag. Youji would tease him to death if he knew about Ken's state right then. Not even getting turned on by one of the prettier girls that had visited the shop. Fag. God, Ken was starting to hate himself. Forgetting his dirty fingers, he ran a hand through his hair and gave a deep sigh. Life sucked. Royally. Ken heard people enter the shop and instantly tensed up, every muscle ready to fight or flee. He flexed his fists, expecting his blades to fly out. 

Shit. His night job was getting to him.  

-*-*-

"Ok! The blueprints are pretty straightforward, all of the floors are connected by one staircase, which is our only way out." Bombay pointed to the large map in front of them. "We could get out the rooftop, but it's to risky. An apartment building will be right next to us; we'd draw to much attention. Once Team One," Bombay pointed to Aya and Ken "is in, alert us. We'll track your progress through the building and tell you which way to got. You'll be heading for the third floor. Second floor is built like a maze, to confuse anyone attempting exactly this, but as long as you listen to us, nothing will happen. Balinese, you're connected to Siberian for this one. Abyssinian, you'll be radioed to me, ok?"

Aya nodded his consent to the plan, waiting for Ken to do the same so they could get moving. Ken surprised everyone by asking a question. "What if you guys make a mistake?" Omi looked up from the mission details he'd been shuffling to Ken. Youji laughed good-naturedly. "Ken, we know how to read a blueprint, don't worry so much! Everything will be fine. Just get in, kill the guy, and get out. Simple." Ken looked down at his hands in his lap. 

"Simple..."

-*-*-

"Ok, Balinese, which way now?" Ken scanned the various hallways through his goggles. They all looked exactly the fucking same! Fucking white! There was one branching right, one going left, and one going up! Gods, this was confusing. 

"O-Okay, umm…" Ken heard something like the shuffling of papers on the other end of the line. "Right! I mean, don't go right, go left!" Ken blinked. 

"What?" Ken shuffled his feet nervously, and clenched and un-clenched his hands, feeling the leather creak against his hands. He and Balinese had been navigating this fucking maze for two hours now. He had tried going back, but had promptly gotten lost, having to rely on Youji to get him out. Ken wished he'd brought explosives. 

"Try up, I mean!" Balinese sounded pretty flustered on the other end of the radio. Ken exploded at this. "TRY UP?! You mean you have no FUCKING CLUE where the hell I am right now?!" Ken waved his arms wildly, his face turning the color of Ran's hair. 

There was a pause before a tentative "…no." came from the other line. Ken was completely lost, and Youji was fucking guessing where to point him. Ken ripped off his headset, deciding to go left. They all probably went to the same place anyways. 

Footsteps!

Light, hurried- it wasn't Abyssinian; these footsteps were almost weightless. Another set joined the first one- more confident, bulkier. Ken looked for a place to hide, franticly searching the white washed walls for any nook or cranny he could fit himself into. He scanned the wall he'd chosen, looking for any blemishes in the barrier between him and freedom. Damnit! Nothing except white, white, white! 

Ken started running in the opposite direction from the footsteps he heard. He tried to muffle his own tracks, but still could hear them. He tried to increase his speed without compensating silence. He tried… 

Siberian suddenly hit something at a full run. Pain laced through his body as Ken's limp body flew backwards from the wall he'd ran into; the last coherent thought he had being something along the lines of 'Oh gods, please hire an interior decorator' before the white was replaced by black.  

-*-*-

Ken moaned as he came to. He faintly relized he was laying on a cold, hard floor and was unarmed. Suddenly a pair of the most shocking green eyes met his.

"Wakey wakey kitty kitty!"

 -*-*-*-*-

{1}No, I'm not sure if pollen is what gives off the plant's scent, but still! 

{2}Solidasters are beautiful yellow flowers with light green stems. They look very graceful!  

A/N: _Mahdiha_: Well, that first chapter was more of a Prologue. I wanted to see if people liked it or not. ^_^ I wrote more this time! Also, I like updating faster, which means shorter chapters. Usually you can expect at least 1000 words. I hope you catch this update!

_???_: Glad you like Ken's character. You know this is YAOI, right? I don't want to confuse anyone with Aya/Ran… I do believe in retaining the boy's manhood even if they are gay. ^_______^ I've seen a lot of stories that made one of the partners in the relationship play the 'girl', and the other the boy. If you do that, why don't you just write a HET pairing? Boggles my mind…

Lady: Thanks! Glad to see another review… ^____^ I live off them, like most authors here. 

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!!


	3. Chapter 2

Title: Cope

By: VOM

Warnings: Same as before 

Disclaimer: See previous chapters

Schu's telepathy is shown in ___ blah ___.

I've been getting chapters out BEFORE I can get lazy! :D It's working so far.

-*-*-

Wakey wakey kitty kitty!

-*-*-

Ken moaned, shutting his eyes again, willing to fall into the enveloping blackness again. He felt someone hit him, right in the stomach, which effectively woke him up from his black world. 

Aya! Go the fuck away! Ken tried to get up from his be- no the ground. Strange. He groaned as a white hot flash of pain lanced across his vision, sending spots of different colors in front of his eyes. Whoa. Ok. Last memory. White! What the fuck? He'd been on a mission -heard footsteps. shit. Ohshitohshitoshitohshit.

A drawling laugh pulled Ken from his thoughts. Little potty mouth we've got on our hands, Farfie. Ken slowly raised his head, to clash gazes with the white haired Irish man he'd fought before. Ken couldn't help but shiver at the man's scars, and how they cruelly twisted down his face, distorting him. He _felt_ something brush his mind, and yelped, twirling around to find Schuldich at his back. 

Farfie, I think our _guest_ finds your scars as beautiful as I do. Ken saw Schuldich move behind him, and he tried to get up and find some leverage, but found his feet bound. The German sat down on the ground and took his teammates head in his hands, running his fingers over the numerous scars before doing the same with his tongue. Ken looked in horror as the redheaded man slipped a finger into Farfarellow's mouth, and it came back coated in blood. Schuldich's greens eyes found his own, and Ken's widened in horror at the evident _lust_ he saw there. He tried to back away from the German, but his bound feet kept him effectively trapped, within the redheads reach. Schuldich advanced slowly on Ken, his telepathy easily reading Ken's fear. He didn't even need the sixth sense to see the evident alarm on Ken's face. Schuldich stopped a few feet away, and started digging deeper into Siberians mind.

NO! Ken pulled his hands up to his head, feeling the invasive touch that was Schuldich's mind. Get out! Getoutgetoutgetout! I won't tell you anything! I won't tell you anything! Iwon'ttellyouanythingIwon'ttellyouanything! I won't! I WON'T! Ken screamed himself hoarse at Schuldich, feeling his helplessness at the redhead's dominancy. His sentences ran together, and almost all coherent thought was gone as he struggled for his mind back. "NOOO—" Ken was cut off by a swift blow to the midsection, making him loose his breath and open his eyes wide, seeing a maniac grin and those --scars. Suddenly, Schuldich left his mind. Ken's throat was dry and scratchy from the abuse he had just given it, and his body felt like it was on fire from the pain in his a head. The fucking mother of all headaches. Farfie, go into the other room. Leave our guest and me alone. The German smiled as Farfarellow took a long look at Ken before jumping on top of him and fixing his mouth onto Ken's. He thrust his tongue into Ken's mouth, and Ken felt the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, in his mouth, on his teeth. Then Farfarellow was gone, as soon as he'd appeared.

Schuldich's sneer grew even wider as Ken tried to wipe off the blood that had gathered on his mouth, in his mouth, by his mouth, on his face. 

Ken bit down on his tongue to keep himself from whimpering. His back ached, his head ached, everything _ached_. The fucking _pain_ was more intense then anything he'd ever felt before. It was all he could think about until Schuldich's face was right by his, permeating his vision. 

__Like what I did, little one?_ _Schuldich drew back and punched Ken, hard. __Your senses are so attuned, any pain you feel is instantly tripled! It__'__s such a power rush, you, tied up there, weak --defenseless._ _At this the Germans smile grew wider and he ran a finger down Ken's face, tracing his jaw slowly, making a path down his throat to his collarbone. Siberian tried to move his arms to do something anything- but couldn't even feel his fingers._ _It__'__s to bad that Kase boy took your virginity._ _Ken's eyes flew open even wider than they'd been. That brought up old quarrels he'd long tried to put to rest._ _Yes, I know about Kase --your disgusting -attachment- to him. Ugh_._ A look of distaste crossed Schuldich's face._ _Love._ _The redhead slapped him, splitting Ken's lip._ _Fool._ _Another smirk crossed Schuldich's face as he stooped down, cleaning Siberian's face with his tongue._ ­­­_He__'__ll never feel the same._ _

Ken slowly absorbed the information that Schuldich was giving him and opened his parched mouth, lips cracking."W-Who?" Ken was surprised as laughter filled the air, coming from the German. _You mean you don__'__t even _know_? The __'__girl__'__ you__'__ve been dreaming about. Don__'__t tell me you don__'__t even know! Your subconscious knows it --now it__'__s time for you to know, too._

_Images flooded his head, filling them with scenes of Aya__'__s death, the man being killed with his own katana, drowning in his own blood as Ken pulled his Bugnuks out of his teammate, Aya on fire, his trench coat and clothes burning off him, till it was only him left, screaming in the flames. _A tear ran down Ken's cheek, even though he tried to stop it from falling and giving away his weakness.The German laughed inside his head. I know your weaknesses better than you do. At that, Schuldich took Ken's mouth, pillaging its warmth to his own good. _You taste good, Siberian. Don__'__t worry about Ran. He doesn__'__t seem like a guy who__'__d take seconds. When I__'__m done with you, he won__'__t even want to talk to you, much less touch you!___

_-*Next Scene Taken Out Because of FF.net Rules*-_

Ken awoke, numb, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He raised an arm to his face, feeling the dried blood and semen coat it. He let out a choked sob before letting the darkness invade his mind.

_-*-*-_

Aya looked around the room of the flower shop, seeing Omi and Youji come in, both looking grave, Youji especially so. He immediately noticed the absence of Siberian. 

Where's Ken?

_-*-*-_

A/N: I love reviewers. Bet you're surprised I'm such a fast updater! *proud smile* 

CherubKatana: Thanks for the review! I'm familiar with seme-uke, but what I meant by still retaining their manhood was a bit different than both them being dominant in bed. Like, if you're familiar with GW, just because Duo is uke to Heero doesn't mean he'll suddenly want flowers and chocolates, or start acting OOC. Or if Squall from Final Fantasy 8 were uke to Seifer Almasy, he'd suddenly do everything Seifer asked or start wanting chocolates and roses. ^____^ I know some guys cross-dress, but I'm disregarding that in this blurb since that isn't what I'm currently writing. I hope you catch my drift and I haven't confused you even more. O.o

Rika-chan: I'm very proud of my fast updates! This is the first time I've ever done something like this・

*giggles* KenKen!

*Ken walks in*

Ken: Yeah?

*swoons* Come here.

Ken: O-ok 

*pulls out feather* KEN TORTURE!

Ken: *blinks* RAN! Did you give her the right medicine? 

!! 


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Cope

By: VOM

Warnings: Same as before

Rating: R

Archive: Send me your URL, and e-mail moi… (e-mail addy in first chapter).

A/N: Back to our favorite team! Well, actually, I like whatever team Schu-poos on, but whatever…^____^ 

Schudich's thought speak in /, because italics screwed up the last chapter. So like::  /Ken is my little babe!/

-*-*-

Youji looked up at Aya, his eyes slowly meeting the other man's. He shivered as he saw what Aya's eyes had become. Cold, unfeeling. There was something underneath the surface, though. Something that maybe someone might be able to reach again. The blonde was sure that Aya wasn't born unfeeling. 

"Ken isn't with me." Aya turned around to fully face the other team members. "Where."  He almost never asked questions. Questions revealed that you didn't know. Not knowing was unacceptable. _Not knowing_ left reason for doubt. Omi cleared his throat, getting ready to take the hit for Youji. Before Omi could speak, though, Youji stepped forward, his eyes finding the ground again. 

The blonde played with his watch, sliding the wire in and out before finally answering. "Ken's with Schwartz." Youji could feel Aya advancing on him, like something tangible in the air. The blonde was like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move away from his impending doom. He wondered if this was how Aya's targets felt right before he slashed his katana through their bodies, when they realized that there was no hope, only Aya's pity. But Aya didn't have pity. It was a weakness to be combated against, not something to be sympathized. 

"And why" Aya was bearing down on Youji, "is Ken with them?" Youji visibly winced, trying to control his instinct to back away from his teammate. "When I was directing him over the radio, my coffee spilled on the blueprints-they got scattered every where- I couldn't find where he was! I swear, Aya, we'll-" Youji didn't get any farther before Aya's fist connected with his face, sending the older man sprawling toward the potted plants. Omi's eye's looked like they were going to bug out. He knew that he didn't stand a chance against Aya in a physical fight. The youngest member of Weiss still knew that the other man wasn't going to listen to reason. He jumped on the redhead, trying to hold Aya's arms behind his back so Youji could make a run for it. The blonde lay on the floor and brought his hand to his nose, feeling to blood run down his face. It started to pool on his clothes, and he felt it get past his vest and soak into his skin. 

He pulled his arm underneath him and pushed his body up, trying to grasp hold of the table he'd been flung towards. The blood made his hand slippery and he could barely pull himself up without moaning. There were definitely some bruises underneath his clothes- some from missions, some from the seething man that was Aya Fujimiya. 

Seeing blood on Youji's face snapped the redhead out of whatever spell he'd been under, and he immediately stopped his struggles. Omi, however, did not let go, not knowing whether Aya meant to attack the oldest man again. He tightened his grip when he felt Aya's muscles tense.

"Let go of me, Omi." Aya said coldly. He looked down at Omi, expecting instant results from his tone. "A-Aya, you can't attack Youji! He's on our side, remember? Our side!" The youngest member of Weiss pleaded with Aya. 

The taller man slowly removed Omi's hands from his arms, and spat out bitterly, "I know." Before making his way up the stairs to their apartments. 

Omi sighed, listening to the man go up the stairs and open his apartment door before running over to Youji, demanding to know if he was alright. The blonde waved off Omi's attention, and instead asked, "What about Ken? We need a plan, damnit!" He slammed his fist against the floor for emphasis. Omi sighed again, and brought his hands up to Youji's face, checking to see if anything was broken. "You know that we can't do anything if Aya is not here. Either we go to Swartz or they come to us, which is seeming more unlikely every minute I spend thinking about it. We can wait till tomorrow, rest up a bit. We'll have to contact Manx."

The blonde nodded his head in defeat, not happy with the waiting part but agreeing that they had to contact Manx about the situation as soon as possible. 

Omi tried to smile a little but failed before helping Youji up the stairs to his apartment so he could bandage him up.

*-*-*

Ken slowly felt around his arms, feeling the numerous abrasions, bruises, and burns from the other team. He stifled a moan as he gave up. His legs screamed, and he wore nothing, sitting in his own blood. Another tear ran down his cheek, making a path for more to fall. What would Aya say if he saw Ken like this? Some bitch to a telepath. Schuldich had made him see the truth. No one could love him now that he was dirty. He was something to be used and then thrown away. Gods, everything burned. Everything hurt… in-between his legs throbbed, and he could feel the blood seeping out of him, running down his legs. The door opened up again, the white light flashing in his eyes. He tried to scamper away, but found himself paralyzed in fear. 

No please, not again, not again, not again… Ken sobbed as the figure took another step forward, illuminating his body. He couldn't see who it was, everything was so bright, no don't come any closer! Please don't! Please just go away! Leave me alone, please please…just go away… He felt breath against his cheek and passed out, the darkness taking over his mind. 

*-*-*

"Damnit Schuldich! Why did you bring him here?!" a young voice. Nagi. A drawling laugh. Sure, confident. Schuldich. "He's my new toy! Would you like to join,…

White covered him before he heard any more.

*-*-*

A/N: Hmmmm…ok! Now, for everyone who posts disclaimers, here's something that's gonna make you sweatdrop:

http://www.templetons.com/brad/copymyths.html - if you want the short and quick of it, -

1) Fanfiction is a violation of copyright law, no matter what your disclaimers say! *^_^*  

2) BUT, lots of companies see it as free advertising, and even encourage it.  

Rika-Chan: Someone will make it better…*pokes Ran* you're on, dumbass! 

Mad at Gravity: Poor Ken-kun, definitely! Raped, beaten, mugged…(well, I dunno about the 'mugged' part, but it fit. ^__^)

Rai-chan: Nope…have to write the story first! :D

Mookie: *blushes* *gives cookie* Thank you! I never said their relationship would be particularly loving, either… O.o…I'm evil.

Lady Kickass: Stay in character, Ken. You've got to be a beaten, raped little boy, but still Ken. 

Ken: *stares* freak… O.o

It's hard to make Ken behave when he wants to go crying into a certain redhead's arms…(no, not Schuldich…)

Carter Tachikawa: Well, I might write the *cough* rape scene as maybe a companion piece… If I did, it would be posted at http://mission.bravepages.com/ , who have offered to post my stories on their site! :D Yey! It's a RanxKen shrine, too!  


	5. Chapter 4

Title: Cope Author: VOM Archive: Yes! seifernsquall@netscape.net Rating: R A/N: Sorry it took so damn long! After vacation was over I was bummed and kinda sat in my bed every day looking at the ceiling wondering why I hadn't redecorated my room. And.this is probably gonna be longer than originally thought. I've also decided this chapter is going to be darker. Ran is an angsty boy! No real plot, 'cept for the end, but to get the flow read the whole thing. Ran is an over-analyzer. *nods*  
  
*-*-*  
  
Ran slammed the door to his room, breathing hard and wishing with all his might to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Somewhere with innocence and love and tenderness and everything Ran's life had been missing since The Accident.  
  
The redhead threw a punch at the whitewashed walls, deliberately holding back so he wouldn't punch a hole in it. Takatori. Just the mere mention of the name sent him into a hateful torrent of emotion. He couldn't wait to feel Takatori's blood on his katana and gloves, or maybe begging for mercy right before Ran's katana cut through his neck, severing the neck cleanly from the body. Or maybe he should make him suffer for everything that Ran's life had been since The Accident. Hell. He would crush the man and his helpers like flies, until they gasped for forgiveness, and then he would kill them.  
  
His blood burned with a hate when he thought of Ken. Damn the boy! How could he mess up like that, getting captured like a fool! That -boy-. Damn him. How could he get taken, when Ran needed him most? He thought of Scharwz, and what they might do to him. What they _would_ do to him. His blood felt like acid, burning it's way through his veins while all he could do was sit there and take it. Someday he would give Aya back her name, and all would be right in the world. She would forgive him, surely. She had to. It was her he did all this for, how he'd sacrificed his innocence for her's. For the bills.  
  
There were other jobs he could have taken. But this was the only one that allowed him to take revenge. Revenge was what he lusted for -he craved it. Needed to feel the grim satisfaction of a mission completed, a job well done. The bloodlust had him in it's grasp, and Ran wanted nothing more than to give into it; to go blind into enemy territory and just kill until the blood ran in rivers down the walls, like Ran's tears on the day of The Accident. Shit.  
  
He needed to feel the beat of something. A heartbeat, anything, to know he was alive. Preferably throbbing, grinding, uncaring noise. Anonymous dancing. He couldn't risk sex with a stranger, after all an assassin with AID's wouldn't do any good. But he needed a release. It was the coarse music or slitting his wrists, which was not pretty the first time, and he didn't feel like repeating it. Dancing it was. Ran stalked over to his dresser, crouching down and opening the last drawer. Black, white, blood red, dark midnight blue, they were all there. His shirts mixed together, creating a better rainbow than raindrops and fire ever could. He grabbed a pair of pants before stripping down to nothing and pulling the leather pants up. Ran loved the feel of leather on his bare skin, the little caresses it gave when he moved every which way.  
  
His shimmering blue top perfectly accented his form, showing off his beautiful stomach and arms. The corded muscle there carried a sort of dominance all by itself; something that powerful could never be contained easily. Ran breathed in deeply; his shirt smelled of Downy. Soon it would smell like sweat, sex, and other things. He quietly made his way down the stairs, careful to not make any sound. If Omi or Youji knew, they would probably turn him in as crazy. More crazy than the Irish man. He did have things in common with the insane man, though. Self-inflicted scars. A bloodlust. Hate. Too many things. Ran's self-deprecation once again roared up. Damn.  
  
He had left his katana in his room, of course. It wouldn't do any good dancing with it. He pulled into a parking lot about 5 blocks away from his desired club. Parking your car to close to a club was a mistake for amateurs. Especially with as nice a car as the redheads. Many boys' looking for a thrill would be eyeing his car if he parked it there.  
  
That would do no good, getting it stolen.  
  
The wind whispered in Ran's ear, cajoling him. It flirted with his body, plastering his hair to his head. He growled lowly in his throat as he saw a group of 15-year old kids approaching the club. What did they think they were doing, coming to this place? They should have been at some school dance, not here. He picked out a boy with shoulder length black hair who was jumping up in down in excitement. He was beautiful, in an innocent way.  
  
Probably his first visit to a club.  
  
He'd be the one to be gang-banged, to be woken up with blood on his legs the next morning and turned into the police because he refused to speak, refused to tell anyone who he was, where he was from. And his friends would see him on TV and turn their heads in shame because they were to damn afraid to do anything. Ran turned away from the group, trying to ignore the group, ignore his old instinct that told him to warn them, to get that boy out of here.  
  
But if it wasn't him, it could be that boy, the one with the short silver hair, or that girl. The one hanging by the corner of the next block, trying to keep cool while guys blatantly stared at her legs, sweeping up and down her body. Her story would be 'waiting for my boyfriend'.  
  
Trying to protect herself from the grabbing hands of the night. Fool! This part of the city was where Ran could let go, become another face in the crowd, just another pretty face to fuck. Not that he would let anyone do that. He'd do the fucking, thank you very much. Anyone here would just sit back and take what he gave them, be it pleasure, pain, or that sick twisted mix of the two feelings Ran had come to know.  
  
He walked past the long line waiting to get in, bypassing all of the newbies to the front of the club, before plunging in. The heavy bass immediately hit his senses. If he hadn't been used to it, he would've covered his ears. The assassin threw himself onto the dance floor, becoming one with the other dead souls on the floor. He was alive now, if only for a few precious hours.  
  
*-*-* A/N: Ok, I'll have to go back and add on the thank you for reviews later. I know lots of people think that Ran never gets out, and it's accepted cannon, but I think it could be different. Perhaps more boring details on this later.  
  
REVIEW PPPPLEASE!!!! 


	6. Chapter 5

Title: Cope  
  
Author: VOM  
  
Author's Excuse: I'm so sorry its late! I didn't mean for it to be. My comp is completly screwing up, and Word isn't working.... I'm writing this on WordPad *~*  
  
Ken moaned as he was picked up. His arms dangled loosly from his sides, his head hanging limply. Brad sighed deeply. Schuldich was getting out of hand. They would have to return Siberian soon. All of Weiss was needed in the future. The idiot German had known this; but he never was good at following orders. How Esset expected him to get anything doe with that man was beyond him.  
  
He was pulled back to the present by Siberian, who moaned again.  
  
Prickles of pain shot throught his arms and legs- especially on the inside of his thighs. He forced his eyes open and saw a hazy black figure; somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the figure as Crawford, but only one thought came to mind as he saw the light glint of Crawfords glasses. Savior. _-_-_-_  
  
Ran felt the other man's touch linger on his hip; currently his dance partner was almost completly wrapped aound the red-head, obviously mimicking the motions of sex. As Ran thought more and more about what he was doing, disgust slowly grew in his mind. He was out of the man's hands in a second, going off into the group of people near the bar.  
  
He could tell they were new. The bar was there just for them, usually. Just there for them to get buzzed enough to dance and get fucked. Of course there were a few more _frequent_ patrons practically having sex in the booths, but Ran easily ignored it. Not his concern.  
  
He slid onto a stool, holding his head in his hands. He was starting to get a headache. No matter how many times he cam to these clubs, his head still hurt after a few hours of the continuous throbbing beat. How could people stay here for eight hours? He quickly ordered a drink, watching the bartender's every move, making sure nothing was slipped in his drink. His eyes found the boy he'd been watching earlier, seeing the scared look in his eyes as a group of guys started dancing around him, grinding and touching.  
  
Ran melted into the stool more as he drank, his mind drifting. He couldn't fall asleep- the music assured that- but he was out of it. A warm fuzziness entered his brain as the alchol his his bloodstream. He sighed and drank deeper, embracing the warmth that felt like the mothers touch he missed so much.  
  
He wanted to go home now. Back to Aya-chan, his mother and father- he wanted it all back. Suddenly Ran threw the glass at the long black haired boy. It shattered against the wall in back of the kid, surprising him and knocking him away from the other men. The boy's friends looked over at Aya, muttering under their breath. The assasin managed to catch the eyes of the boy for a few moments. "Get out!" Aya screamed across the room. For all the boy knew he was mouthing it. The kid's eyes widened a bit, but was dragged back to the groups table by a girl dressed in a tank top and short skirt. Damn it.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Ken woke in a bed. It was a weird feeling, being surrounded by fluffy white pillows and sheets that felt like satin. His head didn't hurt, either, which was a surprise. Maybe he was in heaven...? Doubtful, but it was the only thing Ken could think of. Usually killing people didn't get you on the good side of God. He'd enjoy his sliver of heaven while he could. ~  
  
2cd A/N: Short, but I need Word to really write. There isn't even a spell check on this version! 


	7. Chapter 6

Title: Cope  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author: vom  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
Aya tumbled out of bed at the sound of his alarm clock, which was beeping much to merrily for his acceptance. He slammed his hand down on it quickly, silencing the Bringer of Hell.  
  
5:00 AM. Waaay to early.  
  
Disreagarding the hour, he quickly dressed and ran a hand through his hair. Anya did some fumbling yoga on his rug, wondering how he could get his leg to bend like it did in the book. Ken had bought him 'How to become a Yoga Master' for his birthday. It had been a big joke when Ran had opened it, everyone teasing about how Aya would never be caught doing yoga if his life depended on it. Yohji demonstrated a few positions for them, some obviously not in the book. The annoying book had been lying untouched at the bottom of his dresser drawer for quicte a few months.  
  
But then, ABC had a nice little presentation about how yoga could increase concentration and stamina. Damn him, but he's sucumbed. Poor Aya had been getting up half an hour earlier to sun-worship. At least he coudln't be discovered; Yohji didn't crack an eye till 12:00. Omi had school to prepare for, and Ken...didn't really bother Aya much.  
  
The redhead took a deep breath, trying to block out all other thoughts while rushing through his poses. Siberian-hunting needed a level mind! Birman hasn't contacted Weiss yet, and that worried Ran. Usually they could find _something_... Maybe Omi....  
  
Aya sprinted out of the door down the hall to Omi's room, bursting in. Omi was framed in the computer screen, it flashing various updates every so often.  
  
"Omi." Aya's voice reang out in the seemingly empty room.  
  
The smallest member of Weiss jumped in his chair and quickly turned around to face Aya, rubbing his eyes wearily. "What time is it?" Omi asked, yawning widely.  
  
"5:30."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Have you found anything?"  
  
"...no, I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be..."  
  
Omi yawned again, the circles in his eyes becoming more prominent. Aya frowned a bit.  
  
"You need to sleep."  
  
"I do not! I haven't found anything in the Swartz connection about a kidnapping or Ken!"  
  
"Go to sleep. Now." Aya pointed at the door to Omi's bedroom door, almost growling. Omi's frame shuddered as he stood up, but walked machine-like to his bedroom. Ran shutdown the computer, putting his head in his hands.  
  
Still fucking nothing...  
  
Aya knew if Omi hadn't found anything, it was unlikely that he would find anything either. He silently padded out of Omi's room, not even leaving an imprint of his feet behind.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Brad reached for a crispt white shirt, hastily buttoning it. Crawford tried to avoid looking at the body curled up defensivly on his bed, but his eyes kept resting on the *boys* body then guiltily flicking around the room. After dressing, he walked carefully over to the other side of his bed.  
  
At least they hadn't awakened in an awkward position. Like the smaller brunette curled around Brad's bosy, Ken's head touching the Swartz leaders chin-  
  
Brad shivered. He really needed a good fuck. *Note to self: Visit Schuldich's room later.* Crawford ran his hand through Ken's hair, a sharp intake of breath when he felt something warm and sticky on the back on his hand. Blood. He carefully peeled Ken's head off the pillow sheet. The sheet was ruined, a huge stain where Ken's head had been.  
  
Brad sighed, knowing it was his fault for not checking the bandages. He lifted Ken's body into the air, not liking how much the other boy weighed.  
  
Of course, the movement awoke the sleeping boy - only a boy becasue Brad couldn't bring himself to call him a man, all curled up, his body lithe and toned....to innocent, even after Schuldich's brand of torture.  
  
Ken's hand curled up onto Brad's shirt, and the brunette slowly opened his eyes.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
*~*~*  
  
Schuldich pawed at his covers like a kitten, testing them with his hands. He uncurled slowly, letting go of Nagi. He got up from the *kid's* bed, drawn to the kitchen by the smell of coffee. Something dark, but with a playful hint of cinnomin. Brad awakens!  
  
THe redhead walked silently into the room, fixing his eyes on his target -Crawford- and waited for the moment to punce. Schuldich metally circled his prey, and suddenly wrapped his arms around the other assasin.  
  
"Surprised?" Schuldich purred into Brads ear, his eyes glimmering at the thought of Brad surprised.  
  
"No."  
  
Schuldich snorted into Brads hair, but didn't remove his hands from the front of Brad's shirt. They were idly playing with the other man's zipper, and naughtily ran up the other's front and across his nipples. The redhead twisted hard, earning a gasp from Brad as his reward.  
  
Schuldich went up farther, reaching for the button, but stopped when he came across a wet spot on Brad's shirt. He frowned and quickly turned the black haired man around, registering hte blood on the otherwise white shirt. Schuldich thought through diffrent scenarios, coming to the conclusion amazingly fast.  
  
"Bad little Crawford! If you play with a toy to hard it might break!" Brad roughly pushed the man away.  
  
"You have to return him."  
  
Schuldichs smile gre wider.  
  
"I don't have the reciept."  
  
"Schuldich..." he trailed off. "Today."  
  
The red-head frowned again. "Why?"  
  
"I had a vision."  
  
"You and your fucking visions!" Schuldich spat out, banging a frying pan onto a heater.  
  
"Today."  
  
Brad picked up his coffee and walked out of the room.  
  
*~*  
  
A/N: Sry, I've been realy busy and I couldn't write. I'll notify everyone of this new chapter in an e-mail when I return from spring break. 


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